loosepoet

Enjoy Cowca-Cola

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 00:12:00 +0000

Citoyen vache-à-lait
le démocratisme te trait

tu es la fière mamelle du consumisme...

American Flies On Moon

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 03:03:00 +0000

Frank Einstein, Albert's infamous brother

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 15:54:00 +0000

Was Frank Einstein, Albert's brother of ill reputation, tried for attempted kidnapping and murder simply the twin who turned to crime and hatred out of envy? Or a sophisticated clone experiment of his genius brother? The rumors abound to describe Frank as a man-made creation and those bolts sticking out of his neck sure seem to credit these theories.

(Above, a rare photo of Frank Einsten and a smaller photo of Albert)

Extended environment

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 01:56:00 +0000

Cosmic hand out
we're hangin' out
Lost at sea
to we can't see
Star-studded banner
to fly by
larger in the dream
than on paper
Don't let reality
tell you otherwise

Celestial Happening

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 13:57:00 +0000

Is Michael Jackson going back to black?

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Sun, 08 Mar 2009 19:38:00 +0000

Is this an Obama side effect?

Ça giboule

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Sun, 08 Mar 2009 15:16:00 +0000

On est en mars et ça giboule
à grand vents l'hiver s'indigne
refusant de partir
Il déploie des filets de nuages
mais le soleil les transperce
Alors de rage il grèle
mitraillant la floraison
qui témoigne de sa déroute imminente
Mais déjà les ressources lui manquent
et il s'essouffle
Il ne lui reste que des larmes
dont il s'averse par endroits
et dans lesquelles le soleil
pousse même la dérision
jusqu'à y peindre l'arc des couleurs

tuo edisni

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 22:56:00 +0000

Feeling inside out
Objects in my mirror
may appear closer
than they really are

I de-accelarate
and shift in reverse
trying to brake loose
hands peering thru my eyes

lol

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 00:15:00 +0000

Une vie décorative

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 21:22:00 +0000

Choisir son travail
Choisir sa femme
Choisir son toit

Choisir une vie décorative
comme celle des poissons rouges

Potato Ketchup

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 17:16:00 +0000

The Palin Moose Hunting Legend

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 16:16:00 +0000

According to legend, S. Palin was hunting deep in the forest on Good Friday when a moose appeared before her. Her aim faltered as the White House glowed over the animal's head and a reproaching voice said: "Ain't you got better things to do than shootin' moose?.

Inspired by her vision, S. Palin vowed to put down her rifle and leave Alaska to get some bigger guns and more meaningful targets in Washington.

Buzzin' on the bayou

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 16:24:00 +0000

Schizofrenetic monkeys

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 15:39:00 +0000

We're an extension of the ages
next in line
to be the lost civilization

a schizofrenetic tribe
tomorrow's discarded bones

history's creator
of the next missing link

Homer's Odissey a Fraud!

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 17:38:00 +0000

According to a certain Mrs. Polyphemus Cyclops, resident of a small greek island located of the coast of Santorini, between Charybdis and Scylla, her son, Odysseus Jr. (see photo) is the living proof that the account related in Homer's Odissey regarding the ferocious one-eyed beast who kept Odysseus prisoner and ate his comrads is completely false.

Mrs. Cyclops insists that Odysseus and his crew were on the contrary very well received when they shipwrecked to her front door 2800 years ago. In fact, they enjoyed very much their stay on the island and would have remained but when Odysseus found out he was to be a father, he sheepishly escaped through the night leaving Mrs. Cyclops blindfolded and tied to the bed...

According to Professor Hakan Ciuçu of the Mediterranean Institute of Mythology, the story could in fact be true since the average cyclops life is around 5000 years.

Another evidence of the Tzimols

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 21:47:00 +0000

Leader ain't nothing but dealer in reverse!

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Wed, 24 Oct 2007 20:51:00 +0000

I seen them!

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 14:16:00 +0000

To be..., not to be... What was the question?

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Fri, 29 Jun 2007 16:07:00 +0000

L'esprit qui m'englobe
répond à mes croyances
L'instant produit l'avenir
comme il l'a fait pour le passé

Ce que je demande m'est déjà donné
Je m'exprime à travers chaque pensée
à travers chaque vision, chaque geste
et ce que je sème, je récolte

Terrorists use long range pigeon to mock President

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Sat, 26 May 2007 13:52:00 +0000

More fishy space...

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Sat, 21 Apr 2007 14:33:00 +0000

Little globes floating around
like bubbles from a fish

Whether you look up or down
there's not much you can reach

Ovoid revolutions
searching the void for sensations

Get your spinning ticket!
Your ride on the big wheel!

Ever seen an elephant fly?

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Wed, 11 Apr 2007 14:49:00 +0000

- "Hey! he's makin' a run for it!"
"Yo, Whey u goin'?!?"

- "Can't take the weight of this world on my shoulders no more!"
"I'm outta here!"

il est mort le divin enfant...

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Thu, 05 Apr 2007 13:37:00 +0000

...play the blues
sing some gospel...

Avez-vous remarqué que s'il naît
tout les ans à la même date,
le 25 décembre,
il meurt chaque année
à une date différente...

Encore un mystère de la religion!

Les candidats!

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Mon, 19 Mar 2007 19:17:00 +0000

Uni-verso

noreply@blogger.com (The Loose Poet) — Wed, 14 Mar 2007 12:48:00 +0000

Estamos en un no-acabado
en un in-finito
de proporciones indefinidas

y solo nos balanceamos
como funámbulos
en una línea del horizonte
que indetectablemente se extiende